This piece of writing was inspired by The Sunday Times Magazine's 'A Life in the Day' articles. They do them for famous people. Since I don't stand the chance of ever partaking in one, I've taken initiative and written my own.

        My day starts the same every morning. I set my alarm for 9am. I'm aware you might consider this late, but I work from home and I can make up my own rules because I'm a thirty-year-old adult. If I get any more than precisely 8.5 hours sleep, I'm grumpy. If I get any less than 8.5 hours sleep, I'm grumpy. Therefore, if I'm to have a productive day I must adhere to these strict self-imposed alarm rules.

        I open my curtains and inspect my terrace for pigeons. I hate pigeons. They often wake me up in the middle of the night and I'll run onto the terrace like a mad woman, hair everywhere, clapping at them until my palms are raw, screaming abuse at them and making sounds like 'shoo!' at the top of my lungs. You might laugh, but you shouldn't. These flying rats are getting cockier by the day. These aren't normal pigeons, (nor are they M&S pigeons), in fact, I decided to take matters into my own hands and bought a BB gun online for a fairly reasonable price. I even bought glow in the dark super-turbo ammunition with a distance of up to 3 metres, so I could shoot at them. But, like I said, these are not normal pigeons, they are too quick. I'm starting to believe the conspiracy theory that they are, in fact, human spying machines invented by the CIA to prey on dodgy citizens.

         I often forget to brush my teeth until around 4pm. Fear not, this is not something that seems to concern my hygienist. Every time I visit, last week included, she comments on what an impressive brusher I am. Of course, not brushing them is not an option when it comes to venturing out of the house and into the real world, but when I'm working from home it's just not at the top of my list. Not as important as the pigeons, anyway.

A Typical Day

      Every morning, without fail, I'll go for a walk. To clear my head, to get some fresh air, and to give my body some sort of movement as it is most likely not going to benefit from any other exercise for the remainder of the day. This is because I won't move from my desk.

       My walk is always to the same destination: Pret A Manger. It's a 10 minute walk through a park that is always filled with happy dogs and angry owners. I always order the same thing; a coconut flat white. Almond milk is watery. Soya milk is bad for you. Oat milk is fattening. Therefore, all I'm left with that doesn't come from a cow is coconut milk. The coffee is usually too cold but I'm too polite a person to say anything. I clutch the coffee cup and sulk privately. I recently purchased a coffee subscription and as part of the deal, the first month of coffee is free. I don't want to complain about free coffee.

        I return home and my breakfast for the past month has been the same; Gluten-free granola, almond milk, shredded apple, and a generous sprinkle of cinnamon to disguise the fact that I am eating granola (which is really just rabbit food for humans). I don't snack throughout the day because, like I said, I don't move from my desk. I also forget to hydrate, so when it comes to the end of the day I have a blistering headache, I'm moody, I've got no energy, I'm completely starving and because of the starvation, lack so much energy that I can't contemplate what I want to eat, let alone cook it.

        Writing my book is actually the easy and pleasant part. I'll begin around 10 am. By this time the coffee has entered my bloodstream, I feel more awake, and I've had my rabbit food. I've become someone who listens to LBC whilst they work.

        I take no shame in admitting that I talk to myself when no one else is home. Not for any bothersome reason, but just to check I'm alive. Sometimes I'll read sections of the book out loud to myself and will giggle at what I've written. I'm not sure whether this is a good thing or something to be concerned about. I've gotten into quite a bizarre habit recently of rearranging the furniture in the office. I will get up from writing, energetically and with no warning, and decide that I no longer want my desk to be facing that way. I can't keep track of where I have decided to put my desk from one day to the next. 

       I have daytime pyjamas and I have night time pyjamas. I'll usually take a break around 7pm. This is when I'll have a shower. I like long showers that are extra hot, so hot that every time I nearly take it to the brink of fainting. As you can see, I like to live life on the edge. I then go downstairs and begin cooking dinner. I've been eating a lot of greens recently. And salmon. Omega 3 is good for the brain, and I happen to have one of those, so I like to take care of it. 

       After dinner I will lie on the sofa and try to not eat dessert. I will then spend the remaining hours of the evening between TikTok, YouTube, BBC iPlayer, Netflix and 4OD. Sometimes I end up not watching anything at all but just exploring the options. Sometimes this is actually more entertaining.

        Around 10pm, after I have wasted hours of my life doing not much at all, I'll pick up one of my many half-finished books and try to read at least 5 pages before going to sleep. I usually manage this. I read in the hope that I will become a better writer. I can only hope it's working.

        I fall asleep hoping that pigeons don't wake me up and if they do, that I manage to shoot one.